


In the Mood

by Govi



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, The Hitcher crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-06 14:30:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Govi/pseuds/Govi





	In the Mood

He thumbed the next car down, simply because it was a large size pick up truck and he felt like driving it. Later, afterwards.

The car stopped and he got in, smiling at the guy behind the wheel, thanking him in his soft voice.

“Viggo,” the man said, and he looked at him, trying to figure him out. “John, John Ryder,” he answered, toying with the golden wedding band around the ring finger on his left hand. It was too big for him really, he had long slender fingers and the guy he took it from maybe once had been slender too, but beer and hamburgers had taken their toll.

The ring had been embedded in swollen flesh, and the man had tried hard enough to take it off when Ryder had told him to, but he couldn’t, and fear and sweat made it even harder. Finally Ryder had cut it off, the finger that is, and then it was simple sliding it off.

The man behind the wheel was different. Not really a young man, probably Ryder’s age, but lean, with a well-toned body. He would likely be more fun to play with, Ryder thought, and shifted in his seat.

They drove mostly in silence, after being asked where he wanted to go Ryder had just shrugged and said “Wherever you’re going will be fine.” And it was true, he wasn’t really heading somewhere. Viggo said he ‘worked with cows,’ and yes, he did look like a cowboy, looked like he would be as comfortable on horseback as he was driving his car.

Ryder was in no hurry to start his game. And as much as he had liked the pleading, crying and screaming going on the last days, weeks, months, he was now rather enjoying the silence. After a while he became aware of the guy looking him over more than once, and when Ryder turned his head and smiled, the other man blushed and quickly averted his eyes.

_Ah, well, why not? He didn’t get any sexual thrill from what he did, he was no fucking pervert_. Even though it amused him to let women, and sometimes men, think that was what he was after. It had been a long time, just him and his right hand, and the man looked good enough.

He offered a cigarette and lighted both, handing one over.

“What you say your name was?” His voice now had a slight purr to it, and he turned a bit in his seat so he could have a better look.

“Married?” the guy called Viggo asked, looking at his wedding ring.

“Nah,” he answered, “it was my father’s, he’s dead.” He put the hand on Viggo’s leg. A light touch, no pressure, but it made things heat up a little, and Viggo swallowed.

A strong face he had, and Ryder wondered what it would take to put him in his place. It was getting dark, and he agreed readily when Viggo laid a hesitant hand over his, and said there was a motel in about ten miles where he was planning to stay the night, and would he like to share the room.

He stayed in the car while Viggo went into the small office, watching the way Viggo moved. He just couldn’t wait to get his hands on this one. A blowjob would be great, and then he would get him up, just to see him go down again, if only for another reason.

He was still smirking when Viggo got back in the car and drove it as far from the reception office as possible, and parked it in front of a small block of motel rooms. No other cars there. Viggo probably had asked for that remoteness, and it couldn’t have been better.

Ryder hesitated, as Viggo opened the car door and the lights went on, highlighting the sharp planes of his face. There was something unnerving about this man, looking so fucking comfortable in his skin.

Viggo ducked his head, looking at him. “You still coming?”

He looked innocent enough, so Ryder shrugged off his second thoughts and followed him, standing close behind Viggo while he fumbled with the keys.

As soon as they got in, Viggo grabbed him, slammed him to the wall, and he let him. He blinked when Viggo started undressing him, but then again it would make things easier later, and again he let him. Naked, he allowed himself to be pushed to one of the queen-sized beds, and enjoyed the broad stripe of that tongue over his throat. He hissed when teeth worried on a nipple, not sure about that, trying to pull Viggo down to his groin before things would get out of hand.

Then Viggo’s mouth was on his cock, and he arched into that mouth, closing his eyes, letting it all go for oh, maybe a second, because it all felt so wickedly good, and that’s when things did get out of hand.

Viggo pulled away, his cock slipping out, and before Ryder could even start thinking strong hands flipped him over to his stomach. He shook his head, clearing his lust sodden brain, but Viggo had already straddled him, like he would probably straddle one of his fucking cows when branding them, and Ryder bucked up wildly trying to throw him off.

He could hear the sound of the leather belt Viggo was wearing pulled through the loops, and then a popping sound. Something flew through the room, hitting the battered desk on the other wall. A button? Now he bucked up even harder, because no way he was going to let Viggo...

He cried out when the belt came down on his back, lashing his flesh with liquid fire, and he looked over his shoulder. Viggo rode him – fucking rode him like a bull, mechanical or not, swaying the belt over his naked back from left to right, and Ryder cried out again, pressing his rock hard dick into the lumpy mattress.

“Fuck, oh goddamn fuck,” he screamed when sharp teeth bit down on his shoulder hard, breaking skin. There was nothing he could do but suck in the proffered fingers at his mouth, coating them with saliva, while his back was glowing, making him oblivious to anything but need.

It must have been more than twenty years ago that he’d allowed anyone to fuck him, and now all of a sudden he was craving it, asking for it with every ripple of his muscles. There was no 'allowing' about it, Viggo just took what he wanted, and Ryder complied.

“_What a laug_h,” his brain told him, '_finally picked up the wrong guy_.' The fingers worked in him, and he moved on them, and then he cursed again as they pulled out. He bit down on the pillow, and fuck knew how many times that pillow had been sweated, drooled and spit on, and he didn’t fucking care, because Viggo’s hard cock was pushing into him, and he was so much going to enjoy killing him later. After fucking him just like this, and harder even.

He tried getting his hand under him, getting his hand on his cock so he could get himself off and take over control again; but he couldn’t, felt like one of those rag dolls, helpless in the hands of that son of a bitch fucking him.

He squirmed underneath, wriggled, his voice demanding, then breaking and finally pleading, like he had become what he despised most. _'I'll fucking make him pay for this_,' he thought when Viggo’s hand finally gripped his cock, stroking it, and Ryder came, spilling, Viggo’s voice talking gibberish as he collapsed.

He got up while Viggo still slept. He showered, letting warm water run over his sore ass that felt like Viggo’s cock was still in it. Maybe he would carry that feeling with him for days.

He stood next to the bed, his butcher’s knife open in his hand. He loved that knife, it had travelled with him for such a long time, it was his friend.

He thought about how he would nudge Viggo, show him his friend, and maybe Viggo would be scared after all, would stop being so sure of himself. Maybe this time he would be like the others, would show a bit more respect.

He stood and watched Viggo sleep for a long time, hesitating until he made his decision. Leaving, he closed the door softly behind him.

_'Forget about this, it never happened_,' he told himself.

It had started raining heavily, and it felt good, standing there on the highway, waiting for things going back to what he wanted them to be, not caring about getting soaked.

He noticed the vintage car approaching, slipping and turning in the rain to avoid him. It stopped several yards from him, and he started walking towards it.

Back to business.

In the motel room Viggo stirred. “John?”


End file.
